


Can't Go A Day Without You

by Spoodlemonkey



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Car Accidents, Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-03
Updated: 2020-05-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 00:35:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23976097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoodlemonkey/pseuds/Spoodlemonkey
Summary: “Don’t go,” Willy whines. Zach pauses at the doorway to take in the sight- Willy sprawled out across the white sheets, a tempting flush spreading from his cheeks, down his neck and chest.“I’ll make it up to you later,” he teases, committing the sight to memory.
Relationships: Zach Hyman/William Nylander
Comments: 2
Kudos: 138





	Can't Go A Day Without You

**Author's Note:**

> Based loosely off an event that happened to my friend recently. She's fine (pretty sure her truck is cursed honestly) but this idea got stuck in my head. Unbeta'd so all mistakes are my own. Don't own.  
> Stay safe <3

The sharp blaring of an alarm jolts him out of a light sleep before it’s quickly silenced. He hears Willy’s soft swear, the bed shifting as he hits the snooze button for what is sure to be the first of many times. It’s stuffy where he’s curled up under the sheets. Warm, stale air makes it hard to breathe but he’s contentedly cocooned, not ready to move yet. He buries his face deeper into his pillow with a sigh.

“Hey,” Willy’s sleep roughened voice filters in through the layers. “You in there somewhere?” 

“Nope.” 

Willy huffs out a laugh and suddenly the blankets are being yanked from his grasp. Zach swears at him, but then he has an armful of half naked man and he’s trying to catch his breath instead, from being smothered. He notices the cold of the room in counterpart to the searing heat of Willy’s body pressed against his before the sweet fresh air. It’s only March and while Toronto has had its warm days, today is not one of them. There’s a damp chill to the air and he shivers, giving up on stealing the covers back to instead tug Willy closer, his own personal space heater.

“Knew you were in there somewhere.” Willy smiles down at him, unbearably fond. His hair is getting too long again but he refuses to cut it so close to the playoffs. It hangs down in his face and tickles Zach’s cheeks. He’s taken to wearing it half up in a hipster esq man bun that Zach finds equally endearing and ridiculous. “Weren’t you the one that made me set my alarm so early?”

“I didn’t think morning would come so quickly,” he groans thinking longingly of just pulling the blankets back up and turning off their alarm. It’s an early morning optional practice- he could skip it, Willy is. But his knee’s been feeling off lately and he wants to get some more skating in before they play another division rival on the weekend. 

“That’s what she said.”

“You’re the worst.” It would probably sound more realistic if he weren’t so fond.

“You don’t have to go,” Willy points out. His smile turns wicked. “I’m sure we could find something else to do.”

“I promised I’d meet Mitch.” Willy shifts until he’s straddling Zach’s thighs, leaning over him to press sweet, teasing kisses along his neck. Zach finds himself arching his neck in response. “And you’re meeting Kappy for lunch.”

“They’ll understand.” His teeth sink in, unexpected, and Zach jolts, both at the pain and the heat the flares through him. Willy sucks at the bite until there must be an impressive hickey adorning Zach’s skin. It will be there awhile, Zach knows. Since they started dating, Willy has turned giving hickeys into an artform, marking Zach up for everyone, in the locker room at least, to see. No one’s going to be able to miss this one, that’s certain. 

Willy slumps forwards further, presses a kiss to Zach’s ear, his jaw, any place he can reach until finally he meets Zach’s lips. They both have morning breath but Willy doesn’t seem to mind, licking happily into Zach’s mouth. His necklace tickles Zach’s chest where it hangs between them. He can feel where Willy is hard, pressed insistently against his thigh. He rests his weight more heavily on Zach and it’s hard to breathe, but he wants more, wants Willy to pin him down to the mattress and never leave.

The alarm goes off a second time, startling them apart. 

Willy groans, rolling off of Zach to reach it, presumably hitting snooze again. 

Zach takes the opportunity to crawl out of bed. He grabs some clean clothes, figuring he has time for a quick cold shower before leaving for the rink. He needs it.

“Don’t go,” Willy whines. Zach pauses at the doorway to take in the sight- Willy sprawled out across the white sheets, a tempting flush spreading from his cheeks, down his neck and chest, and his boxers tenting obviously. No, Zach really doesn’t want to go, but he’s already committed to being at the rink. Maybe if he hadn’t told Mitch he was going he’d give in, crawl back into bed, spend the day relearning every wonderful sound Willy can make. 

“I’ll make it up to you later,” he teases, committing the sight to memory.

“You can’t leave me like this,” Willy pouts, gesturing down his body.

“Have fun without me!” He calls back and hurries to the washroom before he can change his mind.

::

His car is in the shop but Willy had said he could use his, so he grabs the keys and heads out. Nothing gives him anxiety like running late so he’s pleasantly surprised when he checks the clock on the car radio and finds he’s got plenty of time. A light rain has started and the car windows fog up. He cracks his window, cranks the heater and drives carefully through the quiet streets. He’s got a double double in the cupholder and a box of timbits for Mitch. Maybe he’ll stop by the bakery near the practice rink after, pick up a few sweets for Willy as an apology for bailing earlier. 

His phone pings as he comes to a red light and he quickly checks; it’s a photo from Willy, looking sleepy and blissed out. Zach flushes and sends back a heart emoji. He’ll come up with something more clever later.

He tosses his phone on the seat next to him as the light changes and he proceeds forwards.

Everything after that is blurry. 

Something hits the car, hard enough to send it skidding across the road. His seat belt locks as he’s rocked; it bites into his skin, knocks the air from his lungs and leaves him gasping. His ears are ringing, head throbbing- did he hit it? There’s a horn blaring and it’s so fucking loud, it sends sparks of white hot pain through his head like lightning strikes. 

He gasps, chokes, his chest too tight. Panic races through him. He can’t breathe. He can’t breathe. He can’t…

He sucks in a lungful of air, chokes on it and tries again. 

What happened? His head is throbbing. He reaches up, winces when his fingers brush his forehead. They come away tacky with blood. His stomach twists; god, he can’t throw up on top of everything else. 

His door is wrenched open and he instinctively flinches away, but all that does is jar his chest. He groans at the sharp pain that flares up. He focuses on breathing and it fades soon enough.

“Are you alright?” The kind face of a middle aged woman stares back at him. Her gaze zeroes in on his forehead. He can feel the slick trail of blood down the side of his face. “Okay sweetheart, I need you to tell me what hurts.” 

Zach blinks, taking stock. He’s slowly catching up despite the throbbing of his head. His windshield has splintered, still in once piece but he can barely make out the road ahead. Over her shoulder he can see he’s a couple of lanes over from where he had started out. He thinks he’s facing the wrong way.

“I’m okay,” he fumbles for his seat belt, lets out a sigh of relief when it doesn’t jam and comes undone with the first press. He hisses when the bruises start to catch up with him- he’s going to have some pretty impressive bruises from this.

“I don’t think you should be moving,” she doesn’t stop him from climbing from the car though, just hovers with a frown, an arm going carefully around his waist when his first step isn’t as steady as it should be. “The paramedics are on their way.” 

“The other driver?” 

“Fine,” she glances away and he follows her gaze, spotting the other car across the intersection. He hasn’t gotten a good look at his car, but if it looks anything like the other person’s then Willy is going to kill him. The windshield is cracked, the front crumpled up like it’s made of paper.

He takes another step and remembers his phone, sitting on the passenger seat. The world spins dangerously when he tries to turn and go back for it and the kind woman, Jess, he learns is her name, gently but firmly steers him over to the curb. It’s stopped raining, he notes distantly but the ground is cool, damp, seeping into his jeans.

“My phone,” he wipes blood from his eye. It’s drying, which must be a good sign, but now it’s starting to itch. “I need to call my partner.” 

“I’ll see if I can find it,” Jess assures him as she steps aside for the paramedics. 

Zach surrenders to their poking and prodding, tries to assure them that he’s fine, save for a few bumps and bruises, but the pounding in his head is getting worse and they usher him into the back of a waiting ambulance. Jess reappears before they close the doors, Zach’s phone clutched in her hands.

“Thank you,” he says sincerely as she hands it over. He almost asks her to come with him to the hospital, just to have a friendly face close by. The paramedics get him strapped in, closing the doors and then they’re off.

Guilt churns in his stomach as he sends a quick text to Willy and then Mitch explaining what happened and that he’s fine, they’re just taking him to the hospital for some tests. His eyes are sore, his head pounding viciously from the brief messages. So he closes them, just for the moment.

::

He’s just been checked in and given a bed in the ER when Willy and Kappy find him. 

“Fuck.” Willy crosses the distance between them in a few long strides. He just barely stops himself from dragging Zach into his arms, the pained look on his face telling Zach just how bad he must look. His hands clench at his sides like it’s taking everything he has to keep them there. “Baby,” his voice cracks, eyes a little damp. “Are you alright?”

The adrenaline has worn off and he’s feeling every ache and pain right now. On top of it all it’s starting to sink in what happened, just how terrifying, how confusing it all was. Willy’s car is totalled- he’s so lucky it wasn’t worse. 

He sags, overwhelmed and Willy is there, carefully wrapping him up in his arms.

“You’re okay,” Willy whispers, over and over as Zach shakes. He doesn’t cry though his eyes sting and his head throbs. He bunches his hands in Willy’s shirt and clings because if he doesn’t he feels like he might just float away. Willy presses kisses to his hair, smoothes his hands down his back and lets him hide away, face buried in his chest. 

Kappy gives him a careful hug once he’s managed to get himself under control. An officer takes his statement, which is exhausting, tells him there will be follow up and then leaves them be for the time being. Mitch shows up shortly after, terrified, but it’s easier to reassure him, to crack a few jokes and tell them what he remembers from the crash when Willy is pressed close next to him, holding his hand.

Looking at his phone hurts his eyes so Kappy takes control sending messages to the group chat and calling his parents to fill them in. He’ll have to talk to them himself, but later, when it doesn’t feel like his head has been split in two. 

The other driver gets brought in, a nurse points him out and god, he’s just a kid. There’s barely a scratch on him but he looks shell shocked, probably not used to driving in the rain and lost control. Willy looks ready to go talk to him but Zach holds on tight, refuses to let him go. At the end of the day, everyone is okay, and that’s what matters. And honestly, he needs Willy there with him, not telling off some kid who didn’t know any better. 

They send Mitch and Kappy home after a while; Zach’s sore, exhausted, wants nothing more than to be back in his bed, wants to redo the morning and this time when Willy asks him to stay he’ll say yes. Instead he gets his chest x-rayed and his head checked out. He gets diagnosed with a minor concussion and some pretty spectacular bruising across his chest from the seatbelt but nothing more severe. 

The whole ordeal takes a few hours and it’s early afternoon by the time he’s released. It’s surreal how quickly the time flies by. It feels like it should have taken days, for how momentous it felt.

He gets a prescription for painkillers that Willy fills for him at the hospital pharmacy. They’re lucky- the majority of Toronto’s hospitals are downtown, including the one Zach ended up at, and it’s only a ten minute drive home. Kappy lent them his car, catching a ride with Mitch since now neither of them has a drivable vehicle. It’s a quiet drive, Willy keeps a white knuckled grip on the wheel like he’s afraid of a repeat and Zach keeps his eyes closed, his head swimming and nerves making him feel nauseous. The pain pills are pretty much guaranteed to knock him out so he doesn’t take any until they’ve gotten into their apartment and Willy’s helped him strip out of his bloody clothes. 

Willy holds him up under the warm spray of the shower, gently cleans the dry blood from his hair that they’d missed at the hospital. For such a small cut it had bled plenty. His shirt is a right off, caked with flaking dried blood. He hums, body heavy and warm, resting his cheek against Willy’s bare shoulder as he runs his hands gently over Zach’s body. Along with the heat it’s soothing and it quickly lulls him into a light doze. 

The pills are really hitting him as Willy helps him into a fresh t-shirt and sleep pants, then into bed. There’s a glass of water on the bedside table, his phone plugged in and in easy reach if he wants it. Willy tucks him in with such tenderness, such care that it makes Zach’s chest tight, knowing how much he scared Willy today.

“Hey,” Willy’s head pops out the top of his t-shirt as he gets changed into his pajamas. His hair is mussed up, eyes wide and young making him look so vulnerable. Zach stretches out a heavy hand. “C’mere.” 

The bed dips as Willy slides under the blankets, curling close to Zach’s side. His eyes are dark with worry, with fear. He hates that he put that there. Willy smoothes his thumb across Zach’s cheek, gaze on the cut and what is sure to be a goose egg.

“I’ve never been so scared,” he whispers in the quiet of the room. Zach’s heart aches. He tugs Willy closer with a hand on his hip until he can feel the heat of his body through the thin layers of their clothes. 

“I’m okay.” he says but it doesn’t feel like enough. “I promise.” 

Willy presses a sweet kiss to his lips. Zach’s eyes dip shut, so heavy he isn’t sure he can open them again.

“I love you,” the words are breathed against his lips. For how far they’ve come together the words are still so sacred between them, whispered into skin, into the quiet of the night, so important but still so terrifying. “Marry me.” 

Zach forces his eyes open to meet Willy’s, the blue burning so brightly. His pulse quickens.

“Why?” 

“I don’t want to live a single day without you Zach Hyman,” Willy catches his hand in his own, tangling their fingers together. He presses a kiss to them. 

“You won’t have to,” a smile pulls at his lips but it’s heavy with exhaustion, a fraction of what it should be. “I promise. But ask me again tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” 

Zach leans in this time, feeling the curve of Willy’s smile against his own.

“Tomorrow,” he repeats. Willy nods, understanding in his eyes as Zach’s own slip shut heavy, but with the knowledge that Willy will be there, watching over him.


End file.
